Rising From Bedrock
by Limphidora
Summary: Atlantis. A mythical island that sunk ages ago. It has risen and nobody remembers. What happens when somebody does remember? Things, many things happen.


**Rising From Bedrock**

**Chapter One: Nobody Remembers**

**Hey! Long time, no see, eh? How have you guys been? By the way After The War is on Hiatus because I am having major writer's block with that one, I may just redo it, who knows what I'll do. Anyways, enough with my rambling, onward with the story!**

The shadows are long, the sun is setting in the pinkish-purple sky, and here I am sitting in a boring world meeting. Well, it's not really classified as boring with France, America, and England fighting and Germany yelling at everyone. I'm not really included in all the fighting and yelling, I've sort of faded from history. I'm Atlantis.

I have noticed that I have been forgotten, only remembered through a myth and stupid Hollywood movies. Just to clear things up, I did sink, that is true. But I rose again, it's just I rose in a different place. I didn't rise next to where The Roman Empire used to be, I rose somewhere around Australia and New Zealand. They don't really notice me, nobody really does.

I remember when I went to my first world meeting, I had met Italy and Romano when they were very little, we used to play a lot, it was fun. They didn't remember nor see me. I thought I saw Germania, but it was Germany, he is almost exactly like Germania, but his hair is shorter. I tried looking for Egypt, but she wasn't there, but Greece was and Ottoman Empire. Though they both had aged a bit and they looked tired. Roman Empire wasn't there, I assume he might be dead, what a shame. I didn't see Prussia either, we were good friends and it's sad to know that he too is probably dead.

It's really boring not being seen, but I guess that's how Canada feels, I see him over there, being sat on by Russia. At least I've learned not to sit down, so I won't be sat on. I've been sat on before, I would not like it to happen again. I got sat on, not by Russia, but by America. That was pretty awkward. I'm sure he wasn't as heavy as Russia, but America wasn't a feather. Or maybe I'm just really weak, either one makes sense.

I just want to leave, but then I'd have to go home to a tiny island with nobody. All my people either died or left when I sank. There was no great Atlantis with a giant glass dome under the sea or anything, there were no merpeople or anything. And now it's just great, decaying buildings, empty buildings. I don't want to go back home.

I guess I just don't want to be lonely. That's the truth, I don't want to go back to talking to water damaged paintings, dying buildings, and plants. But it's not much better when no one acknowledges you. It is better though, I can still hear and see them talk, I still have somewhat limited communication. And it's nice to see them, to see Romano and Italy, to see all the countries I knew when they were kids and I was a kid. I wasn't really a kid, I was more of a teen, a really moody teen.

It was horrible, teenage years. Roman Empire was alive then and he was older than me, an adult in some sense. He looked in his twenties and I looked in my later teens. He put up with me and my moods. I think Romano caught my moodiness, I feel bad for those around him. Roman Empire was really close to hitting me a lot, but he kept his cool, barely ever yelling at me which was probably the best for the both of us. Because it would start an all out yelling war which I, truthfully, would probably lose. He did put up with me and we did other things than yell at each other, but that story is for another time.

I blink and look around the room, everyone is getting ready to go. Another world meeting, nothing got done, as usual. I sigh and pick up my doodles before walking towards the door. I hit something and fall back, onto the floor with a very manly squeak. I blink and see it's just Canada, he's looking around to see what hit him, he can't even see him. I get back up, gathering my paper and leave successfully.

Throwing my paper on the floor, I flop onto the bed of my hotel room, it creaks. Normal civilians can see me. They can see everything from my white-blond hair to my light blue tennis shoes to my icy eyes. If you're wondering why a lot of me seems icy, I can actually give you an answer. I first rose by Iceland and Greenland, it was really cold and I guess I my appearance showed that. I only stayed their for a couple years before sinking and rising as Atlantis in beside Roman Empire.

I slip under the covers, only taking off my shoes and thin, orange jacket. It takes mere minutes before I fall into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
